Imagine,
The maker's spider-quick fingers,
Spinning DNA's tangled skein,
Then moving to trace
The perfectly lazy loop between,
The bumble bee
And the daisy.
Lightning hands,
Join with rough mortal hands,
Then move outward,
The thunder echoes a,
Prayer's reply.
Out and out,
To the forgotten seasons,
Marked on the forgotten pagan wheel,
And out to the swing of the,
Planets beyond.
We should try
Not to sleep.We should try
Not to dream that rootless dream,
Of finding the universe shattered,
Into a handful of marbles,
Unbreakable, with powerful names.
---Tiger's eye, Big Red, Pink Rarey.
Overwhelming,
Details It is what
we may hold,
That allows us to shut our our eyes and,
Believe, to simply believe,
God must have begun
In small circles.